


140. craving

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [42]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are boring,” Helena says, and goes back to the menu. “What is <i>Jell-O</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	140. craving

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of already wrote this -- [gunpowder, gelatine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3522458) \-- and to be honest I like that version better! But I love this scene so I'll just write it again. B)

At the diner, the waitress makes the mistake of giving Helena the menu. Apparently, between the two of them, it’s _Helena_ who looks more trustworthy.

…or the waitress figures she can make more money that way. Sarah doesn’t blame her. Helena, across from her, is actually _licking her lips_ and wriggling a little in her seat. She’s gonna order the entire bloody menu, and unless she’s got money in the pockets of that coat of hers (which Sarah doubts), it’s going on Sarah’s tab.

“I like this restaurant,” Helena says. “Have you been here before.”

“You said you had an offer?” Sarah says. Helena sighs. Her lips flap.

“You are boring,” she says, and goes back to the menu. “What is _Jell-O_.”

“They don’t have that where you come from?”

“No,” Helena says sadly. Her finger reaches out and Sarah swears to god she’s tracing the picture on the menu.

“It’s dessert,” she says. “It’s sweet. And – red. It wobbles.”

Helena’s expression says, very clearly: _what the fuck_.

“Look,” Sarah says. “Order it, don’t order it, I don’t give a shit. Just – order something, yeah?”

The waitress comes back, hopefully, and Helena certainly does order something.

Several things.

Most of the menu.

 _Especially_ the Jell-O, which she orders with a lingering look in Sarah’s direction – like she’s won something, like this is a victory for her. Sarah slouches in the booth, does her best to look unflappable.

The waitress bustles off. Helena slouches in her seat to match Sarah, looks bored, pops back up again. She looks at Sarah, waiting for a cue. Her foot taps under the table. Sarah just…waits. And sure enough: Helena opens her mouth, sucks in a big breath of air.

“Thank you for taking me to this restaurant,” she says dutifully, like she’s reading from an etiquette book that got water damage. _STEP 1: Talk about your location. STEP 2:_

“You wanted lunch,” Sarah says. “And dinner, I guess. And breakfast, and snacks.”

“We can share,” Helena breathes, words slithering out of her mouth like she’s licking them on their way between her teeth. Sarah can feel the beginning of a headache pounding at her temples.

“Yeah, no thanks,” she says. “Don’t know when you brushed your teeth la—”

“Today,” Helena says before Sarah can finish. “This morning.” She looks very, very earnest. Way too earnest. She’s probably lying; besides, Sarah can smell her breath from here. Bull _shit_ she’s brushed her teeth in maybe a month.

Sarah just look at her. Helena looks around the restaurant, pins her hands under her thighs, squirms some more. She opens her mouth again. _Please don’t talk about the restaurant,_ Sarah thinks.

But God is not listening to her. “There are nice people in this restaurant,” Helena says, looking at a baby in a nearby booth with a sort of sharp hunger. She looks back at Sarah. “Like us.”

“No,” Sarah says. “There is no _us_.”

Helena’s eyes wander away again, linger on two kids squabbling in another booth – one of them is kicking the other one, over and over. _Mom! Mooooom. Mo-oooom._ “Everyone here thinks we are sisters,” she whispers. “They don’t know.” She looks at Sarah and her lips wrinkle into a grin. Her eyes are shining. Like it’s a wonderful secret that only the two of them share.

“We’re not—” Sarah says, but then the food lands on the table and Helena starts eating. Sarah snags a piece of bacon off of one of the plates and bites into it, raising her eyebrows as Helena gives her a wounded glare. Before the piece is half-finished she’s nauseous; she regrets it. She can’t really put it _back_ , though, so she folds it into her napkin and sticks it on a passing tray.

Helena pauses eating a burger partway through, drops it on a plate with a wet _plop_. “Are you hungry,” she says.

“No,” Sarah says. “I’m really – really not hungry.”

Helena clearly doesn’t believe her, but she shrugs and moves onto the pancakes. One of three plates of pancakes. Sarah sighs, sinks down low in her booth.

“Nobody has ever taken me to lunch before,” Helena says, staring at her pancake; without a second to let that bombshell sink in she’s folding up the entire pancake and shoving it into her mouth. And: it’s gone.

“Wonder why _that_ is,” Sarah mutters.

“I don’t have any friends,” Helena says, still in the same airy tone of voice. She reaches out and pulls the Jell-O across the table, plate screeching horribly against the wood as it goes. “I always wanted one. Just one friend.”

She licks her lips again, and then digs the spoon in; Sarah is just watching in a sort of horrified fascination at this point. It is, as expected, wobbling. Helena slurps the entire spoonful into her mouth, otherwise doesn’t visibly react.

“I dreamed that we were friends,” she says, grinning hopefully.

“We’re not friends.”

Helena gives a twitchy little shrug. “We will be. I’ve seen it.”

“Don’t they feed you wherever you go?” Sarah asks, desperate to change the subject. But it works too well: Helena clamps the spoon between her teeth, reaches out and strokes the goddamn wall. _No,_ Sarah thinks. _No no no—_

“This is a nice restaurant,” Helena says. “Isn’t it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
